


Issues.

by lovesynlikeasin



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Angst, Jealous, Jealousy, Love, Lovers, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Relationship Issues, Song fic, Upir, Werewolf, bad language, fight, i dont even know, i dont think they define each other, roman is jealous, they want each other so bad, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 16:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10857636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesynlikeasin/pseuds/lovesynlikeasin
Summary: 'Cause I got issuesBut you got 'em tooSo give 'em all to meAnd I'll give mine to you





	Issues.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drapetomania (ScarlettAshes)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Drapetomania+%28ScarlettAshes%29).



> Roman x Peter | Roman is a dramatic jealous bitch

_I'm jealous, I'm overzealous_   
_When I'm down, I get real down_   
_When I'm high, I don't come down_   
_I get angry, baby, believe me_   
_I could love you just like that  
And I could leave you just as fast_

 

Roman stared at Peter. Peter was talking to some gypsy girl. Probably his cousin or cousin of a cousin. They were all related anyways. Still. It irked him. Fuck that. It pissed him off. Gypsy trash.

The upir glanced to his side when Destiny sat down next to him, flashing him a cocky grin, before pointing towards Peter with her beer. “Jealous?” she winked. He swore he was next to punch her. Or tear out her gut. Whichever got her silent first.

 

Peter looked over his shoulder, and stared in Roman’s direction, and Roman didn’t know if the werewolf did it on purpose, pissing him off the way he did. Was it a smirk. Roman scowled, got up, and headed out of the room, the crowd of gypsies making the upir fucking hungry, angry, jealous. He could just leave him. Pft, he didn’t need him at all.

 

_But you don't judge me_   
_'Cause if you did, baby, I would judge you too_   
_No, you don't judge me  
'Cause if you did, baby, I would judge you too_

 

“Roman.” Peter stated, taking a hit from the joint hanging loosely from his hands. Roman refused to turn to him. Angry was what he was. “Fuck you, Roman. Don’t act like a goddamn pussy.” Peter continued. The upir huffed, turning to him, raising an eyebrow at him, looking at him as if he was crazy. “Pussy? Those fucking skanks are the pussies you’re looking for. Go fuck them over.” Roman snarled, causing Peter to shake his head, tossing the joint to the ground before walking up to his pissed off upir. Errh, well not his. That’s stupid.

 

He casually tossed an arm across Roman’s shoulder, his fingers stroking the skin of Roman’s neck. “Fuck pussies? You want me to fuck-” Peter’s fingers curled into Roman’s hair, yanking the strays, hard. “-You?” Roman snarled, but it was half heartly. Actually, scratch that. It was more like a whimper. “Fuckin’ gypsy.” Roman hissed. “You got some serious issues.” he accused the werewolf. Peter gave him a grin, tightening the grip. “As if you’re one to talk.”  

  
_'Cause I got issues_   
_But you got 'em too_   
_So give 'em all to me_   
_And I'll give mine to you_   
_Bask in the glory_   
_Of all our problems_   
_'Cause we got the kind of love  
It takes to solve 'em_

  


Roman shoved Peter away, growling, staring hard at him. He wanted to tear out his heart, he wanted to drain his blood, he wanted to feel him on him, his hands all over him and it was making Roman mad. More than the drugs and the booze and the killing. Peter was his real addiction and he wanted to both quit him and consume him. “Keep your fucking hands off me, you filthy piece of shit. Go back in, go back to the trashes you belong with.” Roman knew that he was being unfair, that he was crossing the line, knew that he was being a dickhead. Shit, when wasn’t he really? He always did that, pissing off everyone around him, shoving everyone around him away from him. The brief look of hurt in Peter’s eyes felt like an hour. An entire hour of staring into hurting eyes. Then the werewolf’s eyes hardened and he looked grim.

 

“Still better than you.” Peter scoffed, turning his back to Roman, causing a break in the heart of the seemingly heartless upir. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He watched his drug wander off, inside and he growled at the top of his lungs. Peter stopped. Didn’t turn back to him, but gave his friend chance. To piece this shit together. Roman’s voice was stuck though. God he couldn’t say anything. He wanted to scream that he couldn’t leave because he needed him like a fish need it’s water, like a eagle need it’s air, but no. Not a fucking sound left his lips, and instead he witnessed Peter’s shoulder sink, in disappointment, before heading inside once more.

 

_You do shit on purpose_   
_You get mad and you break things_   
_Feel bad, try to fix things_   
_But you're perfect, poorly wired circuit_   
_And got hands like an ocean_   
_Push you out pull you back in_

 

Peter sighed as Roman stumbled in. Hours had gone, since their fight. It wasn’t really a fight but there were too many unsaid words between them, making the few words exchanged a fight cutting deeper than the loudest fights between the worst lovers. He knew the man hadn’t left, his stench reeking all over the place. Nor was he surprised when Roman reappeared drunk beyond possible. It was almost frightening. To get that drunk while an upir only pointed out just how much he had consumed.

 

“Peter! Peter! Where the fuck are you?” Roman hollered across the room, and people were shaking their head. Some cursing Peter for bringing him along. Actually, the only person giving him a slight reassuring look was Destiny. Thank god for her. “Peter!” Roman shouted over the crowd once more. “Shite.” he grumbled to himself, but made his way over to the drunk upir. Keep him from making a scene. Grabbing his arm, he yanked Roman with him, to a, to his surprise, empty room. “Jesus, Roman, don’t make a goddamn scene.” Roman almost fell over Peter though, plump lips searching for Peter’s. His drunk mind is finally granting him allowance to his deepest desires. The deep growl from Peter makes it all worth it. The upir’s hands clung to Peter, fingers slipping in under the fabric, pulling him close. Fuck you Roman Godfrey.   
  
_'Cause you don't, judge me_   
_'Cause if you did, baby, I would judge you too_   
_No you don't, judge me_ _  
'Cause you see it from the same point of view_

_Yeah, I got issues_

_And one of them is how bad I need you_


End file.
